Lost Blood
by cg1
Summary: **Chapter 13 up** When lost blood suddenly resurfaces, Hogwarts is left troubled over the message it brings. Little of Draco/Ginny and Ron/Hermione.
1. Beginning of the Year

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, I only own the cloaked figure.  
  
  
The tables were set, the students were waiting for the Headmaster, Albus Dumblrdore to start his yearly welcoming speech for the first years. The enchanted ceiling showed a purple sky with lighting flashing in the back ground, looking just like the outside. Suddenly there was a loud boom of thunder that shock the whole of Hogworts. Many of the first years screamed as a strong wind flung the doors open and all the candles went out at the same time, throwing the Great Hall into darkness.   
There was a crack of lighting that seemed to have come for the enchanted ceiling itself that filled the room with a white glow so bright that everyone had to cover their eyes, but after the light died away the Hall was once again in complete and absolute darkness once again. Then a chair could be heard being pulled out up at the High Table as one of the professors stood. After about a second of the chair being pulled out the candles were lit once again and everyone could see Dumblrdore with his wand out as the last candles lit up.   
There was a small gasp at the end of the Gryffindor table that had every one turning to see a cloaked figurer standing between the Gryffindor table and the Slytherin table, looking up at the High Table. No one could tell what it was because the hood of the cloak was pulled over its head the cloak itself flowed to the floor in a midnight black path.   
  
Dumblrdore suddenly appear by the figurer's side. The head of the person turned toward him, holding out a pale hand that bore blood stains before collapsing to the stone floor of the Great Hall without a sound.   
Whispers ran wild as everyone watched Dumblrdore made a white hospital streacher appear from thin air under the person. Dumblrdore then stood up from his stooped spot near the figure's head as the streacher started its way to the hospital wing. On the out the Hall, the figure turned its head into the direction of one boy. Harry Potter saw the head turn his way a second before he felt a spilting pain down his forehead, right on top of the lighting blot scar that made him so special. The one scar that had been giving to him by none other then Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard in the magic world. So powerful that many people were still afraid to say his name, 15 years after his down fall.   
Slapping his right hand to his scar, he reached out with his left hand to steed himself so he didn't fall flat on his face. The pain lasted only a short time, but if it was possible, it hurt more then when Voldemort was around Harry.   
"Harry, are you okay?" asked 5th year Hermione Granger, watching as Harry sat up full in his seat again.   
"I-I'm fine, just got dizzy is all," the lie tasted bitter, but Harry didn't want Hermione to worry about him.   
"Are you sure Harry? You look a little bit pale all the sudden." Ron Weasley, Harry other best friend since their first year, also turned from watching Dumblrdore as he walked behind the still figure to look at Harry.   
"Just a little tried, that's all. Didn't sleep much last night," was Harry's only answer. At least I didn't have to lie about that, thought Harry as he watched everyone around him start turning to the person next to them and talking about the figure.  
A sudden gasp went up though Hall as a hand full of Ravenclaw's looked toward the enchanted ceiling. There, right above where the cloaked figure had stood was a gaping hole, barely rugged on the sides, with a white-light colored border around. But that wasn't even what everyone was staring at. No, what held everyone's notice was outside the hole in the ceiling. The rain and thunder had stopped, and through the mistfuled night everyone could plainly make out the shape of a man in the air. Not a normal man, but one ten times the size of even the Hogworts Game Keeper, Hagrid. In mid air he stood, as if the air became floor just for him. The stars held his image, emboldering it into the sky itself.  
Once outlining him perfectly, they grew brighter and brighter and then brighter still, till finally they dimmed taking half the night sky with them as they died. All over England the night sky glowed, people stared up into the havens, as if it held the key to unanswered and maybe, just maybe, this night, it did.  
Meanwhile at Hogwarts, the giant man stood in the sky then disappeared into the darkness as the sky around him died out.   
"Wow," whispered Ron as he turned to an awe touched Hermione. "Tell me I wasn't the only one that just saw that."   
"You weren't the only one that just saw that." Hermione replied flatly as she turned her brown eyes to Ron. "Was he Harry?"  
No answer came to the softly spoken question.  
"Harry?" Hermione turned to her right, thinking Harry might not have heard her over the shoulder question. "Oh my God. Harry!" the last spoke in a shriek as Hermione turned and saw why Harry hadn't answered her. He was laying on his side, curled into himself as if in great pain. Only he wasn't moving and his lighting scar was blazing with a bright white light. Sweat was covering his ghostly white face. Harry's left hand lay palm up, but his right one was curled into itself. Hermione and Ron knelt on either side of him, Ron on right Hermione on his left. Hermione was shaking him, trying to get him to wake up when Professor McGonagall and little Professor Flitwick knelt on either side of Ron.   
"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall asked in her stern voice.   
"I don't know, Professor. One minute Harry was standing watching the Headmaster walk out, then I turned and he was on the floor." Answered Hermione as she watched McGonagall wave her wand and Harry floated in mid air.   
Professor Flitwick turned to Ron and Hermione as they started to follow McGonagall. "You two stay here and finish eating, Harry is in good hands now."   
"But Professor--" Ron started to object, but a cold voice behind him stop him.  
"You heard what Professor Flitwick said Weasley, go back to your table." Ron and Hermione turned to see the Potions Master behind them.   
"But-" Hermione started toward Professor Snape only to be stopped by Ron's Hand on her arm.   
"Come on," he said as he herded her over toward the Gryffindor table.   
  
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Meanwhile, in the Hospital Wing Professor McGonagall was just starting to bring Potter in as Dumblrdore was starting out.   
"What's this?" he asked when he saw Harry, still laying slightly on his side.   
"Shortly after you left the Hall, something happened, in the sky." Still in her stern voice she explained about the man in the sky and the stars dieing. Then she told Dumblrdore about how Harry had past out.   
Dumblrdore looked down at Harry's pale face, then at his scar, still a blaze with some inter light. "Right, well lets get him into a bed and see what Madam Pomfrey can do for him." With that Dumbledore turned and walked right back into the Hospital Wing.   



	2. The Meeting

Disclaimer: I still don't any of the Harry Potter characters, only the cloaked figure.  
Chapter 2  
Harry was flying. Up and up, until he was next to the stars. The wind had been whipping through his hair, but suddenly it was all quiet. Nothing moved, silence sounded as loud as a thunder storm.   
Harry was not flying anymore. He was standing. Looking down, Harry saw that he was standing on nothing but air. Closing his eyes, he waited to feel himself falling back to earth with a bone jarring crash.  
"You can't fall from up here," a sweet, simple voice reassured behind Harry.   
Harry turned to find the black figure from the Great Hall standing ten feet in front of him. He couldn't make out who it was; they still had the hood pulled over up, covering their face.  
"Who are you?" Harry asked with more bravo then he felt as he stared into the dark shadows the hood made.  
One slender hand come up, pulling the hood up and then off. Under the hood was the pale face of a young girl. She had a strong chin, high cheek bones, but her eyes . . . Her eyes were covered by dark sun glasses and all Harry could see was two tiny reflections of himself. Her hair was a sterling silver color; it was cut in layers to frame her face, giving it a look of perfection.  
"My name is Emily. I've come to warn you." She answered in an accent that was often related to the Southern states of the United States of America. 'Red neck' and 'country' were two popular 'nicknames' for the way of speech.  
"Warn me about what?" Harry asked starting to back away from her. "And where are we?" Harry turned to look around him. Behind him, he knew, was a quarter moon with stars glowing in a dark sky, yet before him was the sun, its rays lashing out at a sky of pink, gold, orange, and light purple.   
"This place is called an Apex, a place between the dream world," As she said this, she pointed to the moon with its stars and watched as a falling star zoomed across the sky, "And the real world." Turning back, she pointed toward the sun with its pink sky.  
"Why did you bring me here?" Harry asked as he turned back, looking away from the bright sun. The sight that met his eyes caused him to jump. When Emily had shown him the large star, she had been nearly 10 feet away. Now, as his eyes judged the distance between them, he decided she could be no more than three feet away.  
"I brought you here to tell you--" Suddenly Emily stopped and let out a scream that was filled with pain and anguish. Bending over, arms wrapping around her middle, she stumbled forward and fell. Her small form continued to fall farther away as Harry watched in horror.  
"Hey!" Harry yelled as he jumped after her, falling from the Apex with her.   
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Harry jumped, pulling himself out of the sleep like peace he had fallen into. Still he could hear the girl's screams, then he felt himself laying down and guessed that some one had brought him and the girl down to the Hospital Wing.   
Turning to his side, Harry saw the girl on the bed next to him fighting with Madam Pomfrey. Only Snape was there holding the girl down to the bed while Madam Pomfrey conjured up hospital restrains from her wand, restraining Emily to the bed. The girls eyes were tightly closed and Madam Pomfrey had removed her glasses.   
"What's going on here?" Suddenly Dumbledore walked in. His sharp eyes took in the girl attempting to turn from side to side, testing her restrains.   
"She went crazy when I took off these sun glasses," Madam Pomfrey replied, handing the sun glasses to Dumbledore. "I had to get Snape here to hold her down while I restrained her."   
"She needs her glasses," Harry said, causing everyone jump; they thought he was unconscious. "The light, it hurts her eyes." he answered the question he saw in their eyes.   
"How do you know that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he reached to put the glasses back on the girl. Instantly the girl calmed down and stopped fighting the restrains that held her.  
"I don't know how I know that, sir. I just know that light hurts her eyes." Harry answered as he started to sit up.   
"Mr. Potter, you must lay back down." Madam Pomfrey said as she started to walk over to Harry's bed.   
"I'm fine, I'll swear it on Dumbledore's desk if you want."   
"That may be, but you're going to stay in that bed." Madam Pomfrey answered back has she pushed Harry back into bed. "Down." She said when he started to get up again.  
"Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said as he walked over to Harry's bed, "will you go down to Hagrid's hut, outside you'll see a big black dog beside Fang. Will you bring him here, then go back to the Great Hall and await for me there?"   
"But, Harry's. . . . . Yes, Headmaster." Madam Pomfrey said as she walked out.   
"Snuffles?" Harry asked as Dumbledore sat down next to him on the hospital bed.  
"Yes, his been staying here for a week. He was going to leave in the morning, but I think he should stay for a while now." Dumbledore answered, running his hands over his face, suddenly looking old and worn.   
Snape walked over and sat in the chair between the Emily's bed and Harry's. "Who's your new friend, Potter?" he asked, staring at the still form on the nearby bed.   
"Let's wait till Sirius gets here before we begin asking questions." Dumbledore interjected before Harry could answer.   
After a few tense moments, a big black hairy dog walked into the room. The aura that he gave off made one think he was in charge of the entire situation. The dog leaped onto the bed with Harry, then turned into a man. His hair was longer then Harry remembered, yet still untidy and matted. He no longer looked malnourished, Harry thought with approval.  
"Hello Sirius," Harry said as his godfather pulled him into a bear hug.   
"Getting into trouble already, are we?" Sirius teased lightly as he let go of Harry and turned toward Dumbledore.   
"Harry's not in any trouble. Not that I know of," the Headmaster answered, his eyes gleaming for the first time all night.   
"Well then, what's going on?" Sirius asked as he looked around. His brown eyes fell upon the girl in the bed beside Harry, his cautious eyes taking in her restrains and dark glasses. Then his eyes fell upon Snape, who remained in the wooden chair. Snape was looking at the girl as if he knew her. Sirius watched as Snape's eyes fell to the girl's left arm.   
"Who is it?" Sirius asked Snape.   
Snape jumped in his chair, then turned toward Sirius. "Why do you ask me? Harry seems to know more then I do at the moment."   
"Okay then," Sirius said, turning back to Harry. "Who is it?" he asked again.   
"She said her name was Emily. And that she had came here to warn me." Harry answered has he turned back to look at her. She was so still, one would think she was dead. Only the tell-tale rise and fall of her chest showed that she was still alive.   
"Why's she tied up then?" Sirius asked this of Dumbledore.   
The Headmaster was looking at Emily and the question went unanswered. Sirius looked down at Harry who shrugged and each turned their attention to the motionless girl.  
Sirius and Harry found out what held not only the Headmaster's attention, but Snape's as well. The restraints on the girl's left arm were slowly coming undone by themselves as were the restrains on her right arm.   
Suddenly her restrains flew off her arms and anchored themselves onto Snape's own arms, hooking him to the chair he was sitting in.   
"What the--" Snape started but a sock appeared out of thin air and stuffed itself into his mouth.   
Everyone turned to find a now empty bed. As they looked up, they found the girl was standing on the other side of her bed, out of reach from everyone. Pointing one slender finger at Snape she said very quietly, "He's a Death Eater."   
  



	3. Blue Ink

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling still owns all the Harry Potter characters (she even claims Snape, if you believe that), but the one character she doesn't own is Emily.   
  
Chapter 3   
  
Harry stared at Emily, with growing admiration. Harry was willing to bet all the money he had in his Gringotts vault that no one had ever tried to tie Snape up before. And judging from the offended sounds coming from behind Snape's gag, Harry knew that was a bet he would win.   
  
"Well," Dumbledore said, sitting to Harry's right, sounding very amused and trying his best to hide it.   
  
Suddenly Sirius started laughing. Not the small, strained laughter that everyone had been getting since You-Know-Who's return, but great, belly-holding roars. Pointing at Snape, Sirius started talking, his voice coming in gasps, "If you could………see your face when she………" This seemed to be all the Sirius could manage before falling back on the bed and rolling on to his side, dissolving into a fit a giggles.   
  
If looks could kill, Harry would be without a godfather from the glare Snape sent Sirius over the top of his gag. Harry tried his hardest not to laugh; Snape already hated him, he did not want to give him another reason.   
  
Dumbledore, sending a knowing glance toward Harry, turned toward Emily and spoke in a calm voice. "I see there's been some sort of misunderstanding. Snape's name was cleared of all charges after the down fall of Voldemort. He is free of ever being a Death Eater, as it is in his past."   
  
"Then why was he at the last gathering of the Death Eaters?" Emily asked, staring Dumbledore straight in the eye.   
  
Instantly Sirius's laughter died away and slowly he sat up again. Snape's eyes showed fear then a sort of understanding came into them before they became emotionless once more.   
  
"How do you know he was at the last gathering?" Dumbledore's voice no longer held the earlier amusement.   
  
"Look at his left forearm. The Mark still burns, doesn't it?" The question she asked Snape in a cold voice.   
  
Dumbledore pulled out his wand, Emily tensed then relaxed again as he tapped it on Snape's restrains. As they fell away, Snape pulled the sock out of his mouth and said, too calmly for someone that had just been tied up, "At least it was a clean sock." Turning to Emily, he said, "You're here on someone's wishes, aren't you?"   
  
Emily nodded.   
  
"Well, you may as well tell him. Then we can all forget this ever happened." This was said to Harry, who knew it was a warning without words that he was to tell no one that Snape had been tied up and helpless like that.   
  
Slowly Emily reached into her black cloak and pulled out a piece of yellowish parchment that had been folded to look like an envelope, with the flips sealed in blood red. Smoothing out the parchment as best she could, Emily walked around her bed and, giving Snape a wide berth, stopping front of Dumbledore then handed him the parchment.   
  
Harry could see the words "Albus Dumbledore" in pale blue ink across the front of it.   
  
Dumbledore looked at Emily before turning the envelope over. For a second, Dumbledore froze and just stared at the seal as if he had never seen a wax seal in all his life. Harry could make out a "G" atop what looked like the Gryffindor lion. Then, slowly, Dumbledore placed his forefinger under the seal, as if trying to keep the seal from breaking. Gently he unfolded the paper. Harry could not make out what the letter read because of the odd angle Dumbledore was sitting at.   
  
As he finished reading, Dumbledore looked up and stared at Emily. "Is he sure?" he asked in a strained voice.   
  
Emily nodded. "We didn't think they would be ready this year. . . ." She trailed off and looked at Sirius, raising one finely shaped blonde eye brow so that it was seen over the thin rims of her sun glasses, "But they have already over come so many falsehoods. We thought they could take on this one as well."   
  
"What is she talking about, Albus?" Sirius asked, casting a look to both Dumbledore and Emily.   
  
Snape looked at Harry as if sizing him up, then turned to the Headmaster. "I think it's about time, even if you don't. As much as I hate to say it, they are the only hope. But," Snape looked toward Emily again, "they won't be starting off right away, will they?"   
  
Emily looked at Snape as if seeing him for the first time. "No, they will not be starting off right away. They will have all year, then before end of term, they will be faced with the choice. If the choice made is right, we're all saved from that horror," pointing at the letter Dumbledore still held, Emily continued, her voice both calm and emotionless. "If the choice made is wrong, . . . God help us all."   
  
"What horror? And what choice?" Sirius asked, still looking at Albus and Emily.   
  
Ablus stared at Emily for a long time, the only sound made in the Hospital wing was that of their breathing, light and quiet. Then he turned toward Sirius and, reaching around Harry, gave him the letter. When Harry tried to read the letter over Sirius's shoulder, however, Albus took Harry by the arm and pulled him up and off the bed, saying "I think you're well enough to go on and get a little food from the kitchens then it's off to bed with you." With that, Dumbledore opened the door and gave Harry a little push out, closing the door behind him.   
  
Harry stared at the door then turned and headed off to the kitchens, saying a quick hello to Dobby and Winky before going up to the Gryffindor tower. It was then that Harry remembered that he did not know what the password was to get by the fat lady.   
  
Someone must have thought the same thing, because the picture opened right as Harry was about o turn and go back to the Hospital wing and ask what the password was. One red head was looked out at Harry, then Ron Weasly's face broke out into a grin as he spotted Harry.   
  
"Oy, Harry! Come on in before Ms. Norris catches you out of bed." Leaning back into the common room, Ron waited for Harry to pull the picture across the opening before pulling him in to a bear hug. "You ok?" The first real grin pulled on Harry's lips as he reached toward Ron and throw an arm across his shoulders.   
  
"Why wouldn't I be ok, I only passed out. That not even painful." Ron stared at Harry for a minute, then throwing back his head, he roared with laughter, causing many of the younger students to stare at him as if he had two heads.   
  
"Harry!" yelled Hermione before she ran up to Harry and hugged him. "They wouldn't let us come with you and then Snape went off to see how you were and then we heard screams all the way up here." This all came out in a great rush as Hermione hugged Harry again, causing Harry to blush and look at his feet.   
  
"I'm ok, just got dizzy like I told you before."   
  
"But Harry, your scar, it glowed and turned this whitish color."   
  
"I told you, I'm fine. If you don't believe me go ask Dumbledore." Harry said this as they started to find seats in the packed common room.   
  
"Harry, you know we believe you, its just that . . . Well, you didn't look to hot is all." Ron answered, as the sat down with Fred and George Weasly, Ron's two older brothers.   
  
Talk turned away from the Great Hall and then went into all that happened over the summer. Harry wasn't really listening, instead he was thinking about what Emily had said before he'd left. "If the choice made is right, we're all saved from horror, if the choice made is wrong, . . . God help us all." What did she mean by that? Harry kept asking himself.   
  
"Harry?" Fred said, waving a hand in front of Harry's eyes. "You ok? You're starting to space out on us man."   
  
Harry shook himself. "Yeah, I'm ok, just tired." With that Harry stood. "I think I'll turn in for the night. 'Night." he said waving a short farewell to his friends before heading up toward the boy's 5th year dormitory.   
  
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That night Harry dreamt that he was back in the Apex, only this time Emily was not there. Where she would have been stood a short girl who appeared to be around 10 or 11 years old.   
  
Her hair was curly and a beautiful shade of turquoise with, what looked like, gray strands that went down the middle of her hair. Her face was angelic and held an air of innocence. She was very thin, as if a gentle wind might blow her over. Her eyes looked pale violet, seemingly unnatural and forbidden.   
  
Just when Harry was about to ask who she was, though, he woke up, covered in sweat and shivering. Telling himself that it was just a dream Harry got up and washed his face of in the basin by the north window. As he wiped off his face, Harry turned.   
  
And found himself face-to-face with Emily.   
  
A/N: I want to think everyone that reviewed and I hope you enjoyed what I have wrote so far. Ta-Ta-For-Now!! : ) 


	4. Legends in the Making

Chapter 4   
  
Giving a yelp of surprise, Harry jumped back from Emily. Staring at her it hit him that, up close, she didn't look like the girl that he'd thought her to be at first. She looked to be more in her late 20's early 30's.   
  
She smiled slightly at him before turning and indicated for him to follow. Harry turned back to the basin and, laying the towel back on the stand, watched her in the mirror as she made her way silently through the boys dorm and down the stairs. Slowly Harry followed and found Emily sitting in one of the big, comfy wing back chairs near the fire place. The fire had died out a long time ago, but with a wave of her hand, Emily sent the flames roaring. The shadows that had been before were now sent into retreat, making the common room feel less forbidden.   
  
"What were you doing in the boys dorm?" Harry asked as he took the chair beside her's.   
  
"What were you doing out of bed this late?" Emily responded with her own question.   
  
"That's none of your business." Harry almost snapped this out, but forced himself the say it in a matter-of-fact way instead.   
  
"I came here to tell you a legend that is widely know where I come from, but few others know it." her voice was soft and held a note of intelligence.   
  
"What is this legend?" Harry asked, feeling as if he was being pulled into knowing the answers, as if she knew he had to have the answers.   
  
"Well, legend goes that there will come a boy that will defect a powerful Dark wizard. After a few years, the Dark wizard will be brought back to power using powerful, and evil, dark magic. For the spell to work, the legend says the wizard will need bone of the father, flesh of the servant, and blood of the enemy. They would have to be unknowingly, willingly and forcibly taken. This spell, or potion, would take only the most powerful, but not the most powerful dark wizard. You see, if the wizard is to do this spell, it's not him that can make it work, it's the enemy."   
  
Harry stared at her, remembering the night near the end of term when he'd seen first hand the spell she was talking about. "What do you mean, it's the enemy? I thought it took only the most powerful of wizards to make dark spells turn out right."   
  
"Some times, it takes the victim's acts to make what would go wrong with out them go right." At Harry's blank look she continued, "Part of the old dark magic, is the victim's feelings. If a victim feels happy or joyful about a spell meant to make them feel differently, the spell will die and never be able to be made by the wizard that started it. In the spell using father, servant, and enemy, if the enemy is pure at heart, then the wizard using the spell can not hurt the victim or enemy. They can use any curse they want, even Avada Kedavra, but you wouldn't need any help in the department, would you, Harry?" she asked, smiling at him again, but her eyes not straying to the scar on his forehead like most people would do. No, she looked him right in the eyes as if knowing that he hated it when people stared at his scar, making him feel like some kind of animal at the zoo.   
  
"No, I guess not," he answered, almost to himself.   
  
"Anyway, the wizard can't do anything to the victim, or enemy, in your case. They can't even put them in a body bind. Now the wizard can kill everyone that's close to the enemy, parents, friends, and even pets, but they can't touch the enemy. Not with curses, anyway. It would take a strong will from the enemy and the help of another."   
  
"Another? Who would that be?" Harry asked, knowing there had to a catch in it some where.   
  
"Legend goes that after the dark wizard is returned to power after 14 years of beyond death--"   
  
"Wait, what's this 'beyond death'? They're died, right?" Harry interrupted   
  
"No," Emily answered, "beyond death is the term used for some thing or some one that is given a fate worst then death."   
  
"Like a dementor's kiss?" he asked, thinking of what he'd heard about them last year.   
  
"No, beyond death is far worst then that. With a dementor's kiss, the soul is taking from a person. If your beyond death, you still have your soul, but you have no harness for it. It's like, . . . Well, like taking a Golden Snitch out but not putting a charm on the Quidditch field. The Snitch can, and will, go any where. If a soul has no harness . . ."   
  
"It would have to depend on another to survive." Harry answered, piecing the puzzle together in his mind. But even thinking it though like he was, there was still a big gap. "But what about the 'other' you were talking about?"   
  
"Well, if a wizard's soul becomes unhinged from their body, there is only one body that they can use besides their own. If the wizard finds this body, they can force their soul into it and take over the persons' mind. If this happens there is only one known way to stop them. The enemy who's blood was taken, and the other I was telling you about before must join together and fight the wizard without harming the body his in."   
  
Harry thought about this for a while, then a sudden thought hit him, giving him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What if the body the wizard takes is the enemy's or the 'other's'?"  
  
"Well, in that case, the legend says they will both have to be pure of sprit. Also it would be easier if it did work out that way. Because then one would know what the wizard was thinking and could use that against him. Plus it would be easier to fight the wizard's soul, forcing them out of the other's body."   
  
"How does the wizard find the body they need? And how does the enemy?" Harry asked.   
  
"First off, just to make things clear, you are the enemy Harry. You are going to have to fight the wizard, who, as you should know by on, is Voldemort. But this time, you have to fight him while he has a body of another."   
  
"But Voldemort already has a body." Harry stated, staring at Emily as if she'd just lost all the intelligence she'd held moments ago.   
  
"Do you remember when I told you that a spell wouldn't work if the victim was happy or joyful?" She asked this calmly as if she was explaining a wrong to a child.   
  
"Yes, but what does that have to do with Voldemort?"   
  
"I also said that if the enemy was pure at heart that a spell wouldn't work, either." Emily pointed out, turning to stare into the glowing fire. "Your are pure at heart, Harry. When your mother died saving you, she gave you two things. First was protection from Voldemort, the other was a pure heart, a view of how much she and your father loved each other and you. That is what has gotten you so far in only four years of schooling. Voldemort, he can't see love let alone purity. He doesn't know you have this added protection. Because he doesn't know, he preformed a dark spell to make himself a body. But because he used your blood, Harry, his body will age, rotting even as his soul lives on."   
  
"How long will that take?" Harry asked, getting a sick feeling; the conversation was taking a dark turn, one he did not want to take.   
  
"With a wizard that understands love and goodness, it can take years for the body to die. But with Voldemort, who knows no love or kindness, it can take half the school year or a little more.   
  
"Let's not think on these things now, I've come to tell you a legend and I've yet to finish. The last bit of the legend took years to translate; it was in the Old English and was mixed with a bit of Spanish and Dutch. It stated, "the time will come, they will face it, and only the most powerful will survive in this world". I have faith in you Harry, that is why I'm letting you and the other work together. Albus has the greatest of faith in you, even before last years happenings he had greater faith in you then most ever see in another. You godfather, Sirius, he loves you because you're a part of his two best friends, Lily and James. He also has great faith in you, even if he is protective toward you. Your friends, Hermione and Ron, Fred and George, Nevile and Ginny, they love you and know that you'll be there for them.   
  
"Soon there will be a woman that you love and want to be the mother of your children. But first you must find away to protect they, and make the world you live in safe for them. That is why you must fight these battles with Voldemort. If people start to see that a little boy can defect him, and then they see that little boy become a man that can fight with greater power then that little boy, people all over the world will start to believe in you and then start to fight in the same fight with you and then we'll all be on the same side and the world will be made better for our children who won't have to learn hate at the early age that most of us did."   
  
"But how can I do all that? I'm just a kid, I want to live my life, I want what most the kids my age get. I want to be happy, I want to live!" Harry objected, raising from his chair and walking toward the fire place and staring down into the flames. "Every where I go, people look at me like I'm some god and then they ask me what I saw that when… When I got this scar," he finished; he couldn't bring himself to say 'when my parents were killed'. "I just want to be normal, I just want to have a family that cares if I eat or not. Is that too much to ask?" By the time he finished, Harry felt emotionally drained. Never before had he told any one, not even Ron, as much as he'd just told this women, this stranger.   
  
"Harry," she replied, gently touching his slummed shoulder. "Harry, your not alone. You never have been. I don't know if you know it or not, but when you were taking to your Aunt and Uncles, Albus placed someone to watch you. Her name is Ms. Figg. How else do you think that we knew you were living in a cupboard? Then you meet Hagird. And you meet Ron and Hermione, became closer to them then to any other person in your life. You found your godfather, and believed in him, when you of all people should hate him." She gave his shoulder a gentle pat and Harry felt as if all the tension from the end of last year and over summer break was lifted away. "You have over come so much, more then any one has a right to ask of you, and you've come through it all. This one last time, we need you again. Will you help us Harry?"   
  
Harry could feel her stare on his back, and felt as if he had to face her. Then he looked in the thin rimmed sunglasses she still wore. He stared hard into her glasses, as if they held the answer to the meaning of life in there deeps. Still all he saw was himself. "I'll help, in any way that I can." With that he turned and headed back up to the boy's dorm.   
  
He didn't look back, so he missed the look of relief that touched her face before she turned and disappeared into the shadows of the night.   
  
Before Harry was pulled into sleep, he remembered that Emily hadn't told him anything about who the "other" was.  
  
A/N: thanks go to Savy for editing this and all the other chapters. If ya'll like, I might be putting up an original story real soon. Ta-Ta-For-Now!!! 


	5. More then Friends

Chapter 5  
Disclaimer: I only own the plot, Emily, and the "new girl" (you'll read about her, don't worry).  
  
  
Harry slept fitfully that night. In his head he kept thinking over what Emily had said. One time when he woke in the night he looked out the window, staring at nothing, but trying rather to pass time. The next time he woke up the golden rays of the bright sun had started to slip though the window. Harry got up and dressed for the first day back at Hogwarts.   
  
Thinking that he'd get bored waiting for Ron and Hermione to wake up, Harry started down and the stairs from the boys dorm without them. As Harry started out the portrait hole, the Fat Lady, she called out, "Someone's up early today."   
  
"Good morning," Harry said pleasantly as he passed. Then he started down the many corridors that lead from the Gryffindor house to the Great Hall.   
  
He had just reached the entrance when he heard hushed voices coming from inside. One of the voices, Harry knew, was the familiar, deep tones of Hagrid. Harry could not make out what he was saying, but knew from the warm and gentle tones that he was using that he was either talking to a friend or one of his "pets".   
  
The other voice was sweet and child-like. Harry could hear what this one was saying; the speaker was talking slow and clearly. "No, Lethifolds are found in warm places, not just tropical climates as many believe. In America, some are found as far north as Georgia."   
  
Again, Harry heard Hagird say something, but was still to far away to make out what was being said. "That's right," the child-like voice said, with a hint of excitement. "Like the Dugbog, Lethifolds' can be found in the weather that it most likes, not just in the places that people have seen them."   
By now, Harry had walked into the Great Hall. Sitting in his seat at the staff table, Hagird was looking down at a student in front of him. Guessing by the voice, Harry figured it was a girl.   
  
Just then Hagrid looked up and saw Harry walking though the double doors. "Mornin' Harry!" he yelled, excusing himself and standing to come around the table toward Harry. Pulling him in to a hug that walked a thin line to pain on Harry's ribs, Hagird said, "You ok, then? Gave Dumbledore a scare, you did."   
  
"I'm fine now," At Hagird's worried looked, "Really, I'm fine. Just dizzy and tried last night, that's all."  
  
"Well, then, if yeh ok and all, I'd like yeh ter meet someone." Turning back to the girl that he'd been talking to, Hagird put a massive hand on her tiny shoulder and pulled her closer to him and Harry. "Harry Potter, I'd yeh ter meet Mystery Porter."  
  
Harry held out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Mystery held out a small, tanned hand. Her nails, Harry noted, were trimmed short and painted a silvery color. As their hands feel away, Harry noted the shining half moons on top of the silver paint. He also noted that she kept her head downcast, with her cloaks hood pulled over her hair, hiding even that from view.  
  
"Mystery?" Harry said as she pulled her hand away and it disappeared under the sleeve of her too big cloak. "That's an unusual name."  
  
"M-my Father was an unusual m-man." she answered in that sweet child-like voice. Her head was still down and she seemed to be fascinated by the floor under her muddy sneakers.   
  
Harry stared at her down cast head in it's back hood before turning to Hagird. "I didn't see you last night. Where were you?"   
  
"Oh, well, Fang's got ter little cold. Stay with 'em and didn't get ter come." Hagrid answered as he turned and started up toward the High Table again. Once he was in his chair once again, Harry decided to go and see if Ron and Hermione were up. Telling Hagrid a quick good-bye, Harry started out of the Hall but was stopped when he heard Hagird clear his throat. It sounded forced to him, so he turned and saw Hagird looking at Mystery rather pointedly. Then Harry remembered that he hadn't said good-bye to her.   
  
He hadn't done it to be mean to her, it was just that she had been so quiet that Harry forgotten she was even there.   
  
"Um, well, good bye Mystery, I guess I'll see you later at breakfast."   
  
Her head stayed down, but she gave a small nodded. Harry turned and left the Hall, heading back for the Gryffindore tower.   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
When Harry arrived at the tower, Ron was up and sitting in one of the chairs by the fire. "You already have breakfast?" he asked.  
  
"No," was Harry's response. "Just took a walk and saw Hagird at the table."  
  
"Really? Did he tell you why he wasn't at the feast?" Ron implored.  
  
"Yeah, said Fang was sick." This was said with a small laugh; everyone knew how much Hagrid cared about big dangerous animals that no one else would deal with. Then Harry remembered the girl at had been talking to him before Harry had came in. "Do you know a girl named Porter, Mystery Porter?" he asked  
  
Ron thought about this for a minute, then answered, "No, can't say I do. Must be one of the first years." Pause. "Why do you ask?"   
  
"Hagrid was talking to her down in the Great Hall. Something about Lethifolds and Dugbogs."   
  
"Maybe his found someone that likes big hairy things with too many legs as much as he does, then." Ron said this with a small shutter. Harry knew he was thinking about the giant spiders they'd came across in their second year.   
  
A girl walked up to them then. She had brushy brown hair and plain-Jane brown eyes. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron's face turn as red as his flame-colored hair when he looked up and saw Hermione walking toward them. He only had a minute to think about this before Hermione started talking.   
  
"Heading down without me, huh? I see how it is." There was a teasing tone in he voice that wasn't there last year. And Harry saw Ron blush, before he started stutter, "N-no, we were just t-t-talking."  
  
"Really?" she asked, trying, and failing, to keep from laughing. "What were you talking 'bout?"  
  
Seeing that Ron's was still stuttering, Harry saved him from farther embarrassment by saying, "There was this girl talking to Hagrid in the Great Hall. Mystery Porter. You ever heard of her?"   
  
"Yes, she was sorted last night. Didn't you see her?" Hermione asked, even through she already knew the answer.  
  
"No," Harry mumbled truthfully. "I haven't noticed watched the sorting in four years."   
  
"What about you Ron? You have been watching the sorting, haven't you?" she demand in a strict voice that sounded almost like McGonagall's.  
  
"No, not really." It seemed Ron was over his momentary speech problem. "I mean, come on Hermione. What's the point? We're never around the first years any way."   
  
Hermione still had that strict look on her face, but her voice had lost the tone. "Well, you missed history in the making last night." With that she turned on her heel and started out the portrait hole.   
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other then turned and started after her. They caught up with her in the corridor that lead to the stairs to the Great Hall.   
  
"Hey, Hermione, wait up!" Ron yelled as the ran down the stairs to meet her. "What are you talking about, 'history in the making'?"   
  
"Last night," Hermione answered as they walked into the Great Hall and headed toward the Gryffindor table. "If you had been paying attention, you would have seen that only one first year was put in our house. That hasn't happened in over 2000 years."   
  
"How do you know that?" Harry pondered.  
  
"Honestly, am I the only person that's ever read Hogwarts, A History?" Hermione implored.  
  
"The one and only." Ron professed before taking his usual seat next to Harry. Hermione glared at his back for one second before sitting down next to him and pouring herself and Ron some pumpkin juice.   
  
"Who is it then?" Harry asked, ever though he thought he knew.  
  
"A girl, her name was very unusually. I remember that because I heard Malfoy making funny of it at their table." she answered with a nod toward the table behind them. The Slytherin table. There were only a few students at there, three of which were Draco Malfoy and his large, thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.   
  
"Well," Ron said, as he started to butter a piece of toast and set it on Hermione's plate before taking another and buttering it for himself. Harry watched him and thought that maybe his best friends were becoming more then friends to each other. "What was her name then?"   
  
"Mystery. Isn't that a pretty name?" she said as she watched Ron take a bite of his toast. Harry watched as she reached over and wiped off butter from the corner of Ron's mouth.   
  
Ron turned blood red. He gave Harry a side long glance. Harry didn't say anything, just turned and started to butter his own toast. But there was a smile on his face that made Ron blush all the more.   
  
  
A/N: thanks go to Savy, as always, and to the people that review. I love ya all and hope you enjoyed. Chapter 6 will be out shortly.   



	6. Classmates

Chapter 6   
Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or any of his friends. Only the plot, Emily, and Mystery.   
  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione had Potions as their first class. To top that off, it was double potions with the Slytherins, which meant they would have to start off a new year listening to Draco Malfoy and he's slimy insults. After they'd finished their breakfast and Ron finished his talk with Dean Thomas about why Quidditch was better then soccer("What's the point?! You don't even get to fly!"), they went and got their new potion book ("Potions of Japan") and headed down to the dungeons. The only problem Harry had with this class, besides Snape and Malfoy, was that it was always cold. In the winter time, you could see your breath and the small fires that were built, were more for looks then warmth. Sometimes Harry wondered if Snape had enchanted the room just to make the students suffer.   
  
They'd just walked down the steps and were heading down toward the dungeons when they were stopped. "Hey," a loud, 'doubled' voice called out. "Harry! Wait up!"   
  
Together they turned and looked up to see Fred and George Weasly run toward them, George hanging back to help Susan Bones pick up the books she'd dropped when Fred had ran right into her.   
  
"Harry," Fred said as George joined them, "we need to talk to you in private for a minute about a special, special something." So saying, Fred put one arm around his right shoulder and George put one arm around his left shoulder. Bodily turning him away from Ron and Hermione, then fog-marched him into an empty hallway and turned on him with identical grins.   
  
"We have thought long and hard about this," George started.   
  
"And we've come to the choice," Fred picked up.   
  
"That we want you to have the rest of the money you gave us last year." George finished. Fred reached into his robes and pulled out a battered old money bad, passing it to Harry before he knew what was going on.   
  
"No," Harry protested, as George started to put the money into his pocket. "I gave that money to you, I don't want it."   
  
"Then save it, put it in a bank vault, give it away. But not to us. We bought Ron some new dress robes, then used some for starting a mail order system for the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Fred replied as he shoved the money back toward Harry, who'd taken it out of his pockets and tried to hand it back to them.   
  
"But I-" Harry stopped as an idea hit him. "That's great. Perfect. Thanks!" With that he turned back and headed for Potions class, leaving the two red-headed twins to look after him with puzzled faces. Both turned to each other and said, at the same time, "I think his finally cracked."   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
Harry made it to potions class a second before the bell sound. At first, he'd thought he'd made it in without anyone noticing. But of course, Professor Snape saw him and singled him out. Again.   
  
"Look class, someone has finally decided to joined us." he said in his most nastiest voice. Harry sometimes wondered if he was the only one that Snape talked to like that. He'd never even heard him talk to Nevile Longbottom in that tone. "Thought you could just waltz in when ever you wanted, did you, Potter?"   
  
"No, sir. But the bell rang after I was in class so, technically, I'm not late." Harry answered as he started toward the table in the back where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. A few people in the class room gasped. For this was The Boy Who Lived, talking so disrespectfully to a professor. Never mind that everyone hated this professor, they'd just never heard Harry talk to an elder like that before.   
  
"Potter, for being later that's ten points from your house and ten more for sass." With that Snape turned on Nevile, yelling at him because he'd lost his toad, Trever, yet again.   
  
"What was that all about?" Ron asked as Harry sat down.   
  
"Just something that happened last night. I'll tell you about it later." Harry said this just loud enough for Snape to hear. He turned and gave Harry the you-wouldn't-dare look. Harry meet it with a innocent smile and then turned back toward Ron and Hermione who'd watched that exchange with puzzlement. They didn't have long to think about it, though, because Snape had turned and started writing their assignment on the board.   
  
They got all their stuff out prepared the first few steps and were waiting for Hermione to count out fifty bat eyes, (a tuff job; the eyes contently rolling around, staring up at you, and trying getting away) when the door to the classroom opened and the charms teacher, Professor Flitwick walked in and singled to someone in the hall to stay. The tiny man walked over to Snape and whispered something to him.   
  
Whatever he'd said made Snaped stiffen and calmly tell them to continue working. The second the door closed behind the professes, however, everyone forgot about their work and started talking to each other.   
  
Malfoy, who'd been strangely quiet most of the class, looked over at Harry. Their eyes meet and for a split second, Harry thought he saw respect enter Malfoy's cold, sliver eyes. But then the look was gone and the smirk was back. "What do you want, Potter?" he asked, somehow making the simple question sound insulting.   
  
"Oh, nothing. Just for you to jump off a cliff," Harry answered as he turned back to his work.   
  
Ron looked up from the book he'd been thumbing through and watched as Malfoy went back to work. "There's something wrong with him."   
  
"Who?" Hermione asked as she pour the 50 tiny bat eyes into a glass jar.   
  
"Malfoy."   
  
"How do you figure?" she asked as she sat the jar down and read ahead to see what the next step in the potion would be.   
  
"I donno, he just seems, well, different." Ron answered as he reached across the table and picked up Harry's quill, using it to write something on the corner of Hermione's paper.   
  
"Who cares?" Harry asked, getting back to work on his potion. He missed the look that passes between Ron and Hermione. A look of worry at his indifference.   
  
The door opened again and Snape walked back in, followed by Flitwick and someone else. Harry turned in time to see the black hooded cloak and knew that it was Mystery. What she doing here, he thought as Snape sat behind his desk and looked down at the books pilled atop it.   
  
"Class," Professor Flitwick started in his little voice, "I'd like to show you you're new classmate. Mystery Porter. Professor McGonagall would have been here to explain why she well be joining your class and year level, but she had some, um, family business to see to." He turned to the small girl and motioned her forward. "Well, come on, meet your new classmates."   
  
Mystery stepped forward to stand beside the tiny teacher and looked down at her feet.   
  
Professor Snape seemed to find his books unappealing and stared at the girl. "Cloaks are not allowed in the classrooms." he stated.   
  
At this the girl looked quickly up at him.   
  
"You'll have to remove it and give it to Flitwick. He'll have it returned to you later." Snape finished.   
  
The girl seemed to think about this for a minute. The class was deadly still as they watched to see if the girl would go against a professor her first day. Finally, she reached up and untied the light blue velvet string, pulled the cloak off, then handed it to Flitwick.   
  
As one the class gasped. The girl's hair was curly and to the waist. But that wasn't what held them spellbound. No, it was the color of her hair. It was a beautiful turquoise. On the part on her hair, there was a streaming line a silver. Her face was olive shaped and perfectly tan, as if she'd spent a lot of the time in the sun. Her eyebrows were pale, so pale that the color was hard to judge. Her cheekbones were high and formed a graceful arch. Her nose was small and straight, lips full and the top one forming a slight bow.   
  
But it was her eyes that held Harry spell bond. They were just as beautiful as her hair. Only instead of a light turquoise, they were a dark, dark indigo. Unearthly and forbidden.   
  
Like a blot of lighting, Harry remember the dream he'd had. The one when he'd gone back to the Apex. This was the girl that had been there in Emily's stead.   
  
"Thank you," he heard Professor Flitwick say as he took her cloak. "Well, I'll be leaving now." It was the slam on the door that jerked everyone out of their staring trance.   
  
Even Professor Snape had seemed to be watching the girl. She turned away from the class and looked at Snape.   
  
"Professor," she said in that sweet, innocent, child-like voice that Harry remembered from this morning. "Where do I sit?"   
  
"By Longbottom." Snape ground out, sounding as if he was irritated. "Might as well, putting the poorest students together should save the rest of us if you do something wrong." With that he turned away and went back to writing on the board.   
  
Mystery stood there watching him from a minute then turned and looked around the room, as if trying to pick out which one of them was Nevile. Hermione pointed over to the small round faced boy then went back to work. Harry watched as the girl picked up a shoulder bag and head over to Nevile who was watching with an expression of amazement. Harry only took a second watch them before turning back to his own potion.   
  
They just finished up the potion when Snape came by and started testing everyone on how well they did. It was just a simple growing potion, something to get them back into how to make potions again. Harry noticed, along with a few of the others, that Snape saved Nevile and Mystery's potion for last.   
  
"Well, well, well. I wonder how you two did." With that, he picked up Nevile's toad and spooned some of their potion in to it's mouth. The class watched waiting, Harry knew, to see how badly Nevile had missed up.   
  
As they watched, the toad grow ten times its size and jumped out of Snape's hand landing with a resounding smack on the stone floor. The class, not including the Slytherins, burst into laughter. "It would seem that Nevile learned something over the summer," Snape said as he poured a few drops of pale liquid onto the toad. It shrink to it's normal size at once, then tried to get away once again. Mystery caught it and handed it back to Nevile. "That," Snape continued, "or someone did his work for him."   
  
Mystery was saved from having to defend herself; the bell hang right then. Everyone got their stuff together and started to head out. Too bad they all heard Snape say "I want a three scroll paper on the effects of adding powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood."   
  
Harry heard Hermione gasp out "But you can't write a paper that long on that! You can't even write one page about that!"   
  
"Stupid grit," Ron mumbled as they started up the stairs to their next class, which was Charms.   
  
There was a slam from behind them and they looked back to see Mystery on her knees trying to pick up lose papers and books off the floor. "Watch where your walking." They heard someone snarl.   
  
"Malfoy," Hermione said, as she turned and started to help the girl pick up her stuff. Very hard to do when the Slytherins' were standing on as much of the lose papers as they could.   
  
"Oh, look. Mudblood to the rescue." This was meet by heavy laughter as Malfoy turned and headed off, his peers following like love-sick puppies.   
  
"You ok?" Ron asked as he bent down and started to help Hermione get the papers together.   
  
"Y-yes," Mystery answered as she started to shove the books and papers back into her bag.   
  
"I've been wondering," Harry started, "How old are you?"   
  
Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry then turned toward Mystery, awaiting an answer.   
  
"Well, I'm 10, going on 11. But I'm very advanced and that's why I was put in ya'll's year." There was a country accent in her voice that made her sound like she didn't belong.   
  
"Where you from?" Ron asked. He must have caught that "ya'll" too, Harry thought.   
  
"America. Georgia is where I was born, then my Father and I moved around a lot." Mystery answered as finally all her stuff was in her bag.   
  
They stood and started to head up the stairs from the dungeons, unaware of the cold, black eyes that followed them till they were out of view.   
  
After they were out of sight, a big, black dog stepped out of the shadows as a man. His black hair was hanging to his elbows and his robes looked like they'd seen better days. The man, Sirius Black, convicted murder, walked toward the classroom the students had just exited and asked the thin, lanky looking man behind the desk, "Who was that nymph?"   
  
The man behind the desk, Severus, looked up, surprise writen on his face. "How'd you know she was a nymph?"   
  
"Oh please." Sirius answered as he took the seat across from the huge desk. "All you have to do is look at her. The hair, the eyes, the beauty."   
  
"New student." Severus answered. "Mystery . . . *Porter*"   
  
"Porter… But isn't that . . ." The question went unfinished.   
  
"Yes, I was stunted when Flitwick told me, but stranger things have happened." Severus said as he leaned back in his chair.   
  
"But he, . . No, it can't be. They left-"   
  
"Yes, they left. But they had a child, so it seems, and they sent her to save us all." Severus mockingly responded, cutting Sirius off.   
  
Sirius sink in his chair. The room was quiet as each man was lost in his own thoughts. Then Sirius looked up and said, very flatly, "If any one can help, it's her."   
  
Severus nodded, then watched as Sirius changed into his dog form once more. Neither man saw the gray mouse that lay hidden on the desk, unknowingly protected by the huge piles of books.   
  
  
A/N: hope ya'll liked this chapter and all the one before it. Hope ya'll keep reading 'em too. 


	7. The New Professor

Chapter 7   
Disclaimer: I hate saying this part, but I don't own Harry or Ron or Hermione or Fred or George or Nevile or Draco or Snape. By now, your asking, "Well, what *do* you own?" I only own Mystery, the new DADA teacher, and the plot.   
  
  
After their potions class, the day flew by and soon Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting around their usual table in the common room, listening to the explosions from Fred and George's table. Ron was sitting beside Hermione, cussing Snape and writing as big as he could; trying to make three scrolls out of the tiny bit they could find on the subject. Hermione was working just as hard as Ron, only without the colorful tid-bits he liked to add. Every now and then, Ron would say something under his breath and then jump saying, "What was that for?!" Harry know that Hermione was kicking him under the table and every time Ron jumped, Harry would pull the thick potions book off the table and use it to hide his laughter.   
  
Finally, Hermione put her quill down and asked, "Whose the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"   
  
Harry looked over at her, as did Ron, then said, "The schedule doesn't say, so maybe Snape's finally got that job."   
  
Ron replied, "God, I hope not. I'll run out of parchment in a week!"   
  
"Well," Hermione said, picking her quill back up and starting once again on her paper, "I hope its someone like Professor Lupin. I wonder if they'll ever let him come back and teach."   
  
They went back to work, but looked up when the Fat Lady opened and Mystery literally fell in, looking like she'd just run a mile. The common room went deadly quiet as a loud voice shouted from the outside. Everyone knew it was Malfoy, and he sounded royally pissed. "You can't hide in there forever, you dirty little---" His voice was cut off when the picture slammed shut.   
  
Everyone turned and were now watching Mystery as she pushed her lovely hair out of her eyes. It seemed that she'd finally notice the silence and she looked up, seeing that everyone was looking at her. Her indigo eyes swept in room and stopped on Harry. An odd look came and went in her eyes. Was it relief?   
  
Finally, George broke the stillness that had falling on the room. "What in the world did you do to him?"   
  
For a minute, it seemed that she wasn't going to answer, then she said, "I told him that I wasn't looking for trouble my first day and that if he didn't get out of my way, then trouble would be what he'd find."   
  
Fred burst into laughter, then asked, "What 'trouble' did the little ferret find?"   
  
Mystery smiled, the kind of smile that could light a dark room and fill it with warmth. On her smooth cheeks, two dimples winked at everyone. "The kind that causes the gum that Peeves had put on the ceiling to come down on his blonde hair and cover his head. That kinda trouble."   
  
Fred and George led in the laughter that filled the room. Still smiling, Mystery went up the stairs to the first years dorm, which she had all to her self, then came back down and started toward Harry's table.   
  
Pulling a chair out, she asked, "Mind if I sit here?" When no one objected, she sat to next to Harry and laid down a heavy book entitled, Romanian Longhorns. It looked like it weighted more then her by a good 10 pounds.   
  
Hermione saw the book and watched as Mystery opened it to some marked page and started to read to herself. "Are you not going to do your Potions homework?"   
  
Without looking up, she answered, "I finished it all already."   
  
Ron droped the book he'd been flipping through with a loud 'thunk', causing many of the second years behind them to look over. "You already---All three scrolls?" he sounded as if it was the most amazing thing that he'd ever happened.   
  
"Yep," she answered, this time looking up and seeing that both Ron and Harry were watching her as if she had two heads, while Hermione was looking at her as if she was crazy. "Ya'll not done yet." It was more of a statement, Harry was sure, then a question.   
  
"Nope," Harry answered, turning back to his work. "Barely got one scroll."   
  
Mystery looked at them for a minute, then said, "I'll be right back. Ya'll sit tight." Then she was gone, disappearing behind the first year dorm door once more. When she came back, she had yet another book under her arm. This one looked even heavier then the first one. Fred and George must have seen that she was having trouble with it, because they both stood and took the book from her, one on each side carrying the book between them, making a show of how heavy the book was. Mystery followed behind and waited till they'd sat it down before stepping in front of them. Giving her a bow from the waist, the twins laughed out loud she fail into a deep curtsy.   
  
Shaking her head, Mystery sat back down and opened the book. Harry and Ron leaned over and saw the title on the first page. "The Wonders of Powered Root of Asphodel ," Hermione read out loud. Looking up at the younger girl, she asked, "That was in the library?"   
  
"No," Mystery answered as she started to flip the pages till finding the one she wanted. "This in my book, Father bought it one summer when I'd read all the other books in the house. Even the Muggle adventure novels." The pages were yellowed and smelled of mold. Even Harry could tell that it had to have been very old when she'd gotten it.   
  
"You read a book on asphodel roots?" Ron asked, sounding as if raising slugs were better then that. "How board were you?"   
  
"I just thought it would be good to know one day." was her only answer.   
  
Harry leaned close and read aloud, "When powered root of asphodel is added to an infusion of wormwood, a deadly sleeping potion is made. This potion, so powerful that it has been known to send some wizards to Azkaban because they gave it to their enemies, has became known as the Draught of Living Death. Some wizards that 'feel there's no way out' have taken this potion as a way of ending their own life. In only one case has this potion been taking where the drinker lived. The drinker, know to many has the great wizard Merlin, lived and killed the man that had tried to murder him. This, thought by some, is only a legend and should not be tested."   
  
"That all fit on one scroll." Ron said joyfully as he looked up from where he'd been writing word for word everything Harry had said. "Pass that book this way. I'll bet Snape'll have a fit when he reads this."   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
As it turned out, Snape *did* have a fit. The next day he called Mystery to the front of the room and told her to read her paper. Calmly, she started, "In the time of Merlin, the Draught of Living Death was already very old. This potion, as you know, is made when powered root of asphodel is added to an infusion of wormwood…."   
  
By the time Mystery had finished reading all three scrolls aloud, Snape had lost that smug look and was watching Mystery as she walked back to her sit beside Nevile. Pilling his lips into a tight line, he took the scrolls that she was holding out to him and walked to the front of the room, saying, "Turn in you papers when class is over. Now, take out your books and read pages 23-34. Miss. Porter, if I could see you outside for a minute." It wasn't a question, everyone knew that, but Mystery answered it anyway.   
  
"Yes, sir." Then she walked out as if she hadn't a care in the world.   
  
As soon as the door shut behind them, Ron said, "Did you see the look on his face when she read that part about Romanian Longhorn scales could been used in place on asphodel? He looked like he didn't even know that."   
  
"He should at least give her some points; her paper was more in depth then any of ours." Hermione said as, for once, her book lay open and forgotten.   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
After a uneventful potions class, where they'd only read and made their own notes, they had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. After they had taking their seats and the bell had rung, they quieted down. Soon, however, there was a wave of muttering; they had no teacher. Five minutes past, and finally the door opened. In walked a woman with a dark complexion, black hair, and black robes. She looked pale, as if she'd been sick.   
  
"Hello." she said pleasantly as she sat a thin, raggedy book on the wide oak desk. "I know, I know. It's not a good example when the teachers later for her own class, but you know, first day and what not." As she talked she was pushing papers around her desk and looking for something. They heard her mutter, "Where is it? I just had it five seconds ago…."   
  
The class was utterly still as she pulled paper after paper from atop the desk. Then they heard her give a loud "Aha!" Turning back to the class, she noticed them all watching her. "Oh, yes, it might help if I introduce myself, won't it? Well, my name is Linda Howard. Professor Howard to you. I was born in Puerto Rico, but, sadly, my family and I moved away before I reached two, so I don't remember much from then. We moved to Mexico and stayed there a while, till my father could get up the money to get us somewhere else. There's not a lot of money in being a wizard in a poor country, so my father did 'hard' labor. Well, not really, now that I think about it. He always magically fix something so that he wouldn't have to do it himself.   
  
"After leaving Mexico, we came here, to England. I was about ten then. One day I got my Hogwarts letter and my family moved again once I was in school. Now their living it up in Egypt. Don't know where they got the money they have now, but I'm happy for them. Now that you know something about me, I want you all to tell me and the class something about yourself. When I call out your name, stand by your desk, or up here, I don't care where, just stand up." She took one blue colored nail and ran it down the parchment she'd found on her desk. Her finger stopped around the middle of the page, and she called out, "Longbottom, Nevile." Looking up from the page she glanced around the room and her kind, almond shaped brown eye fell on Nevile, who had turned pink. "Stand up, please."   
  
Nevile, looking as uncertain as ever, looked at Mystery, who had started to sit next to him in every class, slowly stood.   
  
"Tell us something about yourself." The kind faced professor said in a gentle voice.   
  
"Um, I-I live with m-my grandmother." he started, and although everyone all ready knew that, no one showed that they'd hear this before; Nevile would just take the easy way out and never get up in front of the class again.   
  
"What subjects are you good at, Nevile?"   
  
"Math," he answered without thinking. The class gave a muffled laugh. Nevile looked around and smiled sheepishly.   
  
Professor Howard looked like she was trying hard not to laugh at a student in front of the class. "Well, that's a start for anyone, I guess. What are you good at here at Hogwarts?"   
  
"Well, Professor Sprouts says that I'm really good at Herbology, but I don't think I'm that good…"   
  
"Well, just believe in yourself and do your best. That's all anyone has the right to ask you." Professor Howard answered. "You can take your seat now if you want to."   
  
Nevile fell into his seat as if he had just got back from a bloody battle.   
  
"Now then, who else do we have in here, . . ." Again she trailed that bright blue finger nail down the page. Harry saw her falter when she got near the bottom of the page. "Porter, Mystery. Would you like to say a few things about yourself?"   
  
As one the class held it's breath; they'd yet to hear anything about her but her age and where she was from. Other then that, Mystery really was that. A mystery.   
  
The adolescent stood and turned to face the Professor, who was leaning against her desk. "What would ya'll like to know?"   
  
No one said anything after Mystery's question. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts, trying to think of the best question they could ask. Finally, to everyone's surprise, Nevile raised his hand.   
  
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?" Professor Howard asked. "Do you have a question for Miss Porter?"   
  
Nevile nodded then turned his gaze to his right, where Mystery stood unusually still. Nevile opened his mouth and asked, point-blank, "Why do you have turquoise colored hair, is it dyed?"   
  
"Nope," she answered, looking relived that that was all he asked. "Hairs been this way all my ten years."   
  
There was a wave of muttering around the room, then Dean said, "Your only ten? You sure your in the right room?" This was meet by a soft laughter from everyone.   
  
"Yes, I'm in the right room." Mystery answered after the laughter died done. "My Father taught me magic very early on. Then I just started asking him to teach me more and more. It wasn't till when I was ready to come here that it was discovered that I was at a five year level."   
  
Harry could tell from the faces around the room that this was the most any of them had ever heard the small girl talk about herself before. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Professor Howard give Mystery a killer look, as if she wished she was anywhere but in the same room with her. But when he turned to look at her, the Professor was smiling and motioned the young student to sit back down. A trick of the light, he told him self as Hermione's name was called.   
  
But when the bell rang and they headed for Charms, Harry couldn't shake from his mind the picture of hate he'd thought he'd seen on the new Professor's face.   
  
  
  
  
A/N: thank ya'll for reading and I hope you enjoyed. And could you do me a favor? Could ya'll fill out that review box for me, that way I know what I need to fix or just give me some ideas on what to do next. Thank ya. 


	8. Mysteries Unfold

Chapter 8   
Disclaimer: Only own Mystery, Professor Howard and the plot.   
  
  
Things fell into a steady order after the first few weeks for Harry. Quidditch pratice was soon to start and classes were not as hard as he thought they would be. In fact, everything seemed much easier, though if asked to explain how he figured out stuff, he'd have no way of answering. Things just sort of came to him.   
  
Ron and Hermione were seen in the halls together, holding hands on more then one occasion. Something that Fred and George teased him about, but never where Hermione could hear.   
  
Ginny was becoming fast friends with Mystery, for which the younger girl seemed grateful; she had no one to talk to and all the girls close to her age didn't know what she was talking about most the time. Ginny gave the impression that she was the sister Mystery never had.   
  
Harry had noticed, with Ron and Hermione as well, that Ginny was some times missing at meal times. Mystery had only came to the first breakfast and was never seen at another meal again. If she was in the Great Hall, it was because Ginny had dragged her in there, and then she only stayed for a total of five to ten minutes.   
  
"Wonder where they go." Ron said, watching as Mystery raced out of the Great Hall as if the demons of Hell were on her tail, Ginny following close behind.   
  
"Library, I think." Hermione replied as she kept a close eye on Ginny, who was trying in vain to catch up with the fast moving girl.   
  
"Why's that?" Harry asked, not really caring, but just saying something to keep the conversation going.  
  
"Have you seen that girl read? She goes through a book a day." Holding her fingers about 4 inches apart, she said, "Big thick ones too."   
  
"What I want to know," Ron said, reaching for the mutton pie, "is where she gets the time. Maybe she got a hold of a Time Turner." The last was said in a joking voice a directed to Hermione, who had had a time turner in their 3rd year and not told Harry or Ron.   
  
"She must go at meal times and free time; she's always first to class and last to leave." Hermione said, slapping Ron's hand as he tried to reach over her for the pumpkin juice. This was meet by laugher from Fred and George, who were sitting across from Ron. The tip of Ron's ears turned red as he polity asked her to pass the juice.   
  
After the twins stopped laughing and play acting as Hermione and Ron, Fred looked over at Harry's full, untouched plate. "Not hungry?" he asked.  
  
"No, just, . . . I don't know, not interested." Harry shrugged, not really knowing how to explain something he didn't even understand.   
  
"Not interested?" Ron asked, as if it was the greatest crime in the world to be blasé about food. "How can you *not* be interested in all this? There's rice pudding, mutton pie, with steam still coming off it. Then there's every kind of custered that you can think of, and some that you can't. And you're 'not *interested*'?!"   
  
"Ron," Hermione said in that strong voice that sounded so much like McGonagall's that it wasn't funny. "Not everyone is as engrossed in their food as you are."   
  
"But, Hermione, honey, he passing up mutton pie! He has to be sick or something." Ron said this as he turned back to Harry. However, all he found was an empty seat and a full plate push over toward him. "Hey, where'd he go?"   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
After escaping from the Great Hall, Harry just wondered around the castle, not knowing where he was going, or really caring for that matter. Just getting away.   
  
Later, Harry would have no way of knowing how or why he ended up in the dungeons, but for some strange reason that was unbeknownst to him, he found himself in front of the open potions door. The picture that meet him was so unreal that Harry pinched himself to make sure it wasn't a dream.  
  
There standing in front of the professor's desk, was Mystery. She was talking to Snape like they were long lost buddies. The tone of voice which Mystery usual used was gone, replaced by a low, serious voice. Every now and then, Snape would nod or "hmm", as if he was making sure she was getting everything right.   
  
Slowly backing away, Harry waited till he was sure that couldn't hear his footsteps before turning and jogging up the steps, heading for the Gryffindore tower. All the time that he was running, Harry was thinking to himself, what was Mystery doing talking to Snape? And why was he being *nice* to her?   
  
What Harry didn't know, was that from the bottom of the dungeons steps, a pair of warm indigo eyes watched his every move, till he was out of sight. Then the girl sighed, then walked back into Snape's classroom as if nothing strange had happened. 


	9. History of Magic

Chapter 9   
Disclaimer: You know the drill  
  
  
  
As Harry made his way back to the common room, he got the feeling more and more that he shouldn't tell his friends what he had seen. He couldn't explain it, but there was some inner voice telling him that it would be a bad idea to notify them.  
  
By the time he'd reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry had made the choice that he'd wait and see what happened before telling them anything.   
  
"Password, dear?" she asked, giving him a soft smile.   
  
"Oh, um,…" then Harry remembered that he still didn't know what the password was. Lucky, someone came up behind him.   
  
"Jarvey." said an all too familiar girl's voice.  
  
The portrait opened, letting him and Mystery in. "Thanks," Harry mumbled, turning to head off toward his friends.   
  
He could feel the girl's indigo eyes boring into his back, then he heard her say, "Anytime," before she marched off to her dorm.   
  
The next hour was spent playing chess with Ron, which he lost greatly, before the trio of friends went to their next class, History of Magic, with Professor Binns. Not surprising, Mystery was sitting in her seat in the back of the class, right next the window that faced the lake.   
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked to their own desk, all of which where in the dead center of the class. Talking to themselves, they didn't notice when the class filled, but were shushed by many when the professor/ghost walked in.   
  
"Today, we will be studying about ……" that was all Harry heard, before he, like everyone else, turned out the Professor's toneless voice. Harry looked around, seeing that Levender Brown was busy painting her nails a bright, fire engine red. Dean was laying on his desk, already half-asleep. The only two people that were really listening to the professor's words were Hermione, who looked ready to give up on her notes; and Mystery, who was almost finished with a whole parchment of notes and was about to take another out when she looked up and show Harry watching her. Then she smiled, that wonderful, illuminating smile. Harry felt his cheeks turning red and quickly turned back to face the front.   
  
About an hour had gone by when the Professor came to a stuttering stop. No one quite knew why till they looked to the back. There, sitting straight as an arrow in her chair, was Mystery, hand high in the air.  
  
The Professor was clearly at a loss; their was only one person who had ever, *ever* raised her hand in his class, and that was Hermione. Finally, he got out, "Yes, Miss…" looking down at his roster, "Miss Porter? Something you'd like to add?"   
  
"Yes, Professor Binns, there is a small mistake in your notes." Mystery said, her voice strong and clear.   
  
As one the class gasped. No one had ever, to their knowledge, questioned Binns.   
  
However, the Professor seemed to find it amusing. "Really?"   
  
"Yes, sir. The death of Wendelin the Weird was 1589. Correct?" At the Professor's nod, she continued, "How then was she able to be burnt for the 46th time in 1596 and the 47th time in 1598?"   
  
Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what the Professor was going to say. In the end, Binns nodded. "How indeed?" he asked to no one in general. "If someone can find the answer to the question young Miss Porter has addressed in a full paged essay, 90 points to your house. And," he added, "40 points to her for noticing the problem has it presented itself. Class dismissed." 


	10. Falling Hard

Chapter 10  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter, sadly. I'm not making any $$ on this (not that I know of, anyway). I only own Mystery, Professor Howard, and the plot. (And anything else you don't recognize.)  
  
  
Hermione had been hounding over her many books on the history of witches, when Harry finally had enough.   
  
Throwing down his plain white feather quill, he stood and said, "That's it, I quit. I can't think anymore." Looking down into Ron and Hermione's faces, he said calmly, "I'm going for a walk, I'll be back later."   
  
"Ok," Ron said, noticing that Harry really did look tried beyond his years, "do you want me to come with you?" this was said in a voice that sounded as if he was hoping that Harry wouldn't. Truth to tell, Ron had been waiting for a private moment when he could talk to Hermione. This looked like his chance.   
  
Harry, being the dense male that he was, didn't notice that Ron was looking at Hermione with more then friendship burning in his eyes. "No. I'm just going down to the kitchens." with that, he turned and started out of the common room, missing the relief that flashed across Ron's face, followed by shame of not wanting to be with his best friend as much anymore.   
  
Hermione looked over at Ron, saying slyly, "Why didn't you go with Harry?"  
  
His ears turned pink as Ron said, "Well, I thought that, you know, that we could … talk."  
  
Purposely, she pick at him, "Talk about what, Ron? Can't we talk about it in front of our dear friend, Harry?"  
  
"No!" he blurted, starting a few of the second years that sat beside them. "I mean,… That is, it's about,…. You know, you and me. About … where we're going and … that kinda stuff… You know?"  
  
"No, why don't you tell me?"   
  
"Well, I really,… you know, like you and I wanted to know if you,… that is if your,… I mean if you…" Seeing that she was laughing at him, Ron let out a loud sigh, "Damn it, Hermione, you know what I'm trying to say, you're doing this deliberately."  
  
"Don't cuss." she said, "And so what if I am doing this deliberately? I have a right to know how you feel and if I talk, you'll never say anything about your feelings. Now will you?"  
  
Turning red once again, Ron felt as if he'd just committed a great sin and his mother was scolding him. "You sound like Mum."   
  
"She's not here, so I have to keep you in order, don't I?"  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
Harry, unaware of Hermione and Ron's "heart-to-heart", was rounding the corner to the library when he was hit in the chest by something and knocked to the stone floor. No, not something. *Someone*.  
  
There, laying atop his chest, was a very red faced Mystery.   
  
"Oh, no," she whispered dreadfully a second before someone else rounded the corner she had come from.   
  
Above them came a cold, hate-filled voice. "Well, well, well. What have we here? Couldn't you think of a more romantic place to take your girlfriend, Potter?"   
  
Draco Malfoy. 


	11. Confrontations

Chapter 11  
Disclaimer: HARRY POTTER, characters, names, and related indicia are Trademarks of and © Warner Bros.  
  
"Well, well, well. What have we here? Couldn't you think of a more romantic place to take your girlfriend, Potter?" Draco sneered from where he stood above Harry and Mystery.  
  
Harry, feeling Mystery trying to bury herself in his shoulder and stand at the same time, looked up and did the only thing he could think of. Placing an arm around her, he sat up, taking her with him. "Jealous?"  
  
Two red spots of anger appeared on Malfoy's other else pale cheeks. "Of what? The fact that you parentless? Or the fact that you have a nerdy imp?"   
  
"Better to be parentless than have Death Eaters for a mother and father." Harry shot back, helping Mystery to her feet and standing to face Malfoy. "And better to have a nerdy imp than no one at all."  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about, Potter. You'll never know what its like, because you never knew what kind of people your parents were." Malfoy said nasty, taking a step closer to Harry and Mystery.   
  
"And you do? You don't even know what kind of people your mum and dad are like, do you? I'd rather be left wondering than have them right there in front of me and still not know." Harry shouted, shocking himself and Malfoy. He didn't know where the words were coming from, but knew that they had to be vented.   
  
"What do you know about me?" Draco shouted back, shoving Harry back a step, ramming him into Mystery, who was holding the back of Harry's robes, as if afraid he might throw a punch.   
  
Harry shoved him right back. "I know that you're envious of everything that you don't understand. You hate Hermione because she's smarter than you and from a Muggle family too. You hate Ron because he has a family that cares about him, even if they are poor. You hate me because I get more attention than you, even though I don't want it. If I could, I would gladly give up the life I have. And do you know why?" Giving Malfoy another shove, Harry quickly had him back up against a stone wall. Mystery was pulling at his robes, saying "No, Harry. Please don't. He's not wroth it."   
  
"Do you know why?" Harry growled at him again. Malfoy gave a small shake of his blonde head. "Because I want a family. I would give up being a wizard, having friends and being good at Quidditch just to have my Mum and Da back. You got that?" His hands had found their way to the front of Draco's robes and were fisted there, pulling Malfoy up and shaking him with more strength then Harry had had all his life.   
  
Draco's face was slowly turning blue; Harry had fisted his robes so tight that he couldn't breath. Harry, beyond noticing this, was still shaking from repressed anger. Anger at Draco, his aunt and uncle, and most importantly, anger at himself for losing control.   
  
From behind him, there was a small flow of light. Harry had little time to think of this before a blinding white light hit him and darkness consumed him.  
  
  
  
  
**********Sorry it took so long to get the chapter up. I had no clue what so ever what to put in it. Hope you like. Enjoy!********** 


	12. Hospitals

Chapter 12   
Disclaimer: If you still read these, then you can just go back to chapter 11 and read it there. K?  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry awoke to the feel of soft sheets under him. He knew that he was in the Hospital Wing and that the voices he heard above and around him were that of Madam Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore.   
  
"What could have brought it on?" asked the wary voice of the old Headmaster.   
  
There was a long silence, followed by a heavy sigh from Pomfrey. Then, "Repressed anger. The feeling that he could be doing more, but with everyone watching him like a hawk and the year starting out the way it did, he's had no chance to explore or find something to keep him busy. Then when Mister Malfoy confronted him and an argument broke out, he had a chance to vent and instinctively took the opportunity to free himself of it." There was a another, longer pause before the nurse spook again. "If Miss Porter hadn't stopped him when she had, Harry very well could have strangled Draco without even knowing it."  
  
Harry turned his head the left, away from the voices and looked over toward the bed where Malfoy lay, listening to the elders talk. His neck was deep purple around the edges, just barely seen over the collar of his black robes. His pale eyes widened as the nurse said that Harry could have killed him. Harry's green eyes locked with Draco's and an understanding passed between them. They both knew that neither would talk about this again or let it happen again.   
  
The thick curtain was pulled back and the headmaster stood there. "Well, boys," he said, slowly lowering himself down onto Harry's bed and turning his upper body so that he could see them both clearly. "Now that you've heard me and Madam Porfrey discuss it, what have you to say for yourselves about your behavior?"  
  
Neither said anything, just stared at the headmaster. Finally, as Harry was opening his mouth to explain, Draco stated, "It was my fault, sir. I provoked Harry into fighting me. I was angry and looking for a reason to punch someone. I'm sorry."   
  
Harry just stared, then laid back on his pillows and closed his eyes. "Well," the headmaster said above him, "has you know, Mr. Malfoy, fighting is not allowed and results in the expelling of the guilty party. But, because you came forward, I think that we can let this one slide. You both have gone through enough already tonight." With these words, Dumbledore stood and started for the door before turning and saying, "Oh and Draco," the silver-haired boy looked up at his name. "You have someone here to see you." The words were no sooner out of his mouth then the door was opened and a red haired girl ran into Draco's waiting arms.   
  
It only took Harry a minute to link two and two together. There was only one girl at Hogwarts with that color red hair.   
  
"Ginny?" he whispered.   
  
A pair of soft brown eyes and a pair of hard cold ones looked over at him. Ginny gave a soft gasp before trying to remove herself from Draco's arm. He tightened his hold on her and watched Harry.   
  
"Well," Draco sneered, "Are you going to sit there with your mouth wide open and catch flies, or are you going to start yelling.   
  
Harry didn't answer; he was to shocked. His eyes turned toward little Ginny who was pink in the face and leaning against Draco, as if for support. He chocked out one word.   
  
"Why?" 


	13. Into the Forest

Chapter 13  
Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own the Harry Potter story board or anything having to do with Harry Potter. Maybe some day………  
  
  
  
"Why?" Harry asked, staring at little, innocent Ginny, who was leaning in to Draco Malfoy. Seeing Ginny with anyone would be tough to watch; Harry always thought of her as his little sister. But seeing her leaning against a Malfoy was just too unbelievable.   
  
"I,… That is we,… Oh, Harry, I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Ginny finally got out, looking down at the tops of her shoes, which were barely visible under the hem of her too-long rope.   
  
"Any way would be too hard to take in," Harry said coldly, feeling betrayal, but not knowing why. "So what? Have you become one of his women? Is that what you want out of life?"   
  
Tears appeared in her soft brown eyes, eyes that now clouded with hurt and uncertainty. Suddenly, an even colder voice cut in, sounding more furious than ashamed. "What else was she given? A life time in her brothers shadows? A life time following you around just to have you say hello?" Malfoy was sitting up, pulling Ginny to him and holding her while tears of pain ran down her checks. "What kind of friend are you to take away her happiness because you don't think it's right?"   
  
Fury shot through Harry at his words. "What do you know of happiness, Ginny's or anyone else? All your family has ever done is take it away from others!" His shout rang through out the hospital, drawing the stares of Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.   
  
"What is the meaning of this?" Pomfrey asked, stepping between the beds of the glaring young men. Taking one look at Draco, whose arms were still wrapped tightly around the sobbing Ginny, who held on to him even harder, she turned and stared at the Headmaster. But he was looking toward the open door, from which Harry had made his escape.   
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
Harry headed for the forbidden forest, not caring if he would be expelled for breaking the rules and entering it. Though he doubted it would matter; he'd been in it so many times that he probably knew it better than Hagrid did.   
  
He ran through the trees, not using the path, but cutting right through the forest itself. When he came to the clearing that he often used as a thinking spot, he went on, going deeper and deeper into the darkness, leaving behind the knowledge he had and gaining new.   
  
Farther and father he went, getting cuts and scratches along the way, but not caring. Each branch that whipped across his check was like a slap in the face, awakening him up to the fact that Ginny *had* been missing in the common room and at the dinning table. Why had he never noticed, never questioned where she was? Maybe he knew she was up to something, but had refused to believe that sweet little, innocent Ginny had a boyfriend.   
  
Anyway, it was too late to ponder this now; the whole school would know in an hour or less. Harry ran faster, harder, trying to out run the truth. But it wouldn't leave him be, it stayed right on his heels like a loyal dog the never left his masters' side.   
  
Just when Harry was about to turn around and face the truth, he broke into a clearing. Staggering to a stop, Harry stared at the little cabin that lay nestled between to missive trees on the other side of the clearing.   
  
No one ever said anything about a cabin in the forest, Harry thought dumbly, staring at the single floor cottage.  
  
Wait, he thought, I've seen this before, when I was a little kid. He racked his brain trying to remember where.  
  
Suddenly, the white-washed door open, cutting off his train of thought and reviling a brightly lit hallway that opened to an airy kitchen. A short, thin figure stepped out. It was wearing a familiar hooded black clock. Harry hide behind one of the wide tree trunks to his right.   
"I'll come back in a week or so," yelled the childish voice of Mystery Porter. "I don't know if I'll be able to get away sooner." Then she shut the door, turned and took a slightly over-grown path that headed toward Hogwarts.   
  
Long after she was gone, Harry sat on the forest floor, wondering if the rest of the week would end without the shocking surprises that seemed to follow him.   
  
He very much doubted it. 


End file.
